


tell me atlas, what is heavier? the world or people's hearts?

by andromedaas



Series: does anyone flinch when you take off your clothes? [2]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, this is just a stream of thought and I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29191707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedaas/pseuds/andromedaas
Summary: But then there’s Zelda on the porch at the mortuary with Vinegar Tom under her chair and a cigarette on her lips. There’s hidden moments and soft whispers and words Lilith desperately wants to say but she bites down on her lip and swallows them.(we all pay our dues to an omnipotent god in the end)
Relationships: Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Series: does anyone flinch when you take off your clothes? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143197
Comments: 8
Kudos: 47





	tell me atlas, what is heavier? the world or people's hearts?

At the end of time it would always be her, always and explicitly her. Despite all their twisted emotions, all their jagged shapes, she would always stand on the precipice to Pandemonium and follow its dark haired queen into the void no matter the cost.

Even if the cost was her life.

-

There are some things that Zelda learns to be inescapable truths: the world is cruel, no matter her service, no matter her reputation. She was the first to lead to Lilith, to Hecate, but it doesn’t even matter, not when she buries two separate Sabrina’s and swallows her grief.

(not when she swallows glass after glass of courage that stings like liquor and walks to a partially filled Cain Pit, staring at the sky until morning peaks beyond the horizon and there’s dirt in her hair)

She finally, _finally_ got some semblance of normalcy and then life happens, wherever you are, whether you make it or not.

Sabrina didn’t make it.

Nick didn’t make it.

Marie wore the face of a stranger and walked away from her in the dead of night, Haitian Creole on her lips.

Zelda learns that it is easy to do nothing. It is hard to forgive. It is easy to pick up a glass of sin at the dark before the dawn and desperately wish she was human so she didn’t have to live with this grief for centuries more.

She needed a storm to match her rage, an understanding silence instead of meaningless words.

Zelda Spellman turns her sights to hell, to a dark haired queen with bright blue eyes and magic cackling through her veins. A witch who sucks down sugar-sweet marrow and gnaws on the bones of her enemies, her lovers, her friends.

-

Lilith realised that running back into the same hands that broke her will not heal her. She realises that there is a reason the Queen is the strongest piece on the chessboard, and that there is a reason mortals win by killing the king. She learns that if anything costs her, her peace, it is too expensive.

Lilith craves rage to match the storm that churns inside her, the lightning in her soul, the thunder in her heart, the chaos soaked so deep in her bones they too are jet black. She watches as life becomes glorious and wretched at the same time.

In the evenings, in the fleeting spare moments of her life, Lilith walks among the mortals again. The same winding forest path through Greendale, the same rocky steps towards the mortuary, the same cemetery with two headstones for two Sabrina’s.

This time is different.

This time Zelda is there.

“You killed him to save him, didn’t you? You decided that instead of handing him over to Lucifer, it would be better to never let him be touched. You saved him, didn’t you?”

Zelda’s voice was low, husky, laced with nicotine and pain. Lilith didn’t dare turn around to face her, not since the last time they met where Lilith had a spear to her heart and Zelda had grief in her eyes. “I keep thinking,” Zelda starts, words faltering on her tongue, “I keep thinking you already knew. I keep thinking I’ve sent you prayers that I’ve only ever written in my head.” There’s green eyes on the back of her head and Lilith finally finds someone with an understanding of what it’s like to be broken down and lose everything. “No one can hurt you as badly as the people you love, Lilith.” Zelda walks past her and rests a hand on Sabrina Spellman’s tombstone. “Life, with all its rules, its obligations, and its freedoms, is nothing more than another one of Shakespeare’s sonnets. You’re given the form, the requirements, but you have to write the sonnet yourself.” Zelda looks over her shoulder and there’s green eyes on hers and some unspoken understanding. “I’ll kiss you now, if you want me to.”

Lilith nods and then there’s soft lips on hers and some iridescent, celestial peace washing over her skin.

-

There was something human flashing beneath Zelda’s skin, something untouchable blossoming across her sternum as Lilith licked off salty-sweet sweat on her journey to the garden between her legs. Something more than a witch across milky skin that bruises so _easily_. Zelda becomes her canvas and Lilith decorates her ardently. She drowns herself in Zelda over the edge, over again, until Zelda claws at her hair and flips them over and her smile is free and feral.

There is something violent in her passion, the way her nails dig a little too deep, the pain borderline, almost overwhelming the pleasure. Lilith wonders if this is her penance for all those times, for luring Sabrina and morphing Sabrina and whisking her away to be hers to mould. Lilith wonders if this is how Zelda is paying her back, with scratches that take too long to heal and teeth too sharp that draw blood from her lips.

She’s always too full too suddenly, one finger to many and Zelda’s rough panting in her ear as she thrusts to a spot Lilith has never reached on her own. Lilith does nothing but writhe beneath her, breathless screams building in the back of her throat. If this is how Zelda seeks forgiveness, payment, if the nails biting into her skin leads Zelda believe she can recreate Sabrina from flesh and blood ripped out of Lilith, then she will let her have that over and over and _over_ again.

There are times when Zelda is gentle though, when it’s a soft tongue and stroking hands. Times whenLilith feels herself getting lost in the sensation of a mouth on her cunt and fingers in her hair and a soft voice whispering _you are damaged and broken and unhinged, but so are shooting stars and comets_ and Lilith… Lilith questions if all the choices she’s made to lead to this point are the right ones, if every price she’s paid with her blood and her sweat and her tears and her bones was worth it.

Life is nothing more than glorious and wretched at the same time. She is nothing more than the stardust and ash littering her bones.

-

This world, the one without Lucifer in Hell, Sabrina roaming the mortal plane causing mischief, this world is full of ruins, overgrown foliage and broken stone, the weight of time on Lilith’s chest.

But then there’s Zelda on the porch at the mortuary with Vinegar Tom under her chair and a cigarette on her lips. There’s hidden moments and soft whispers and words Lilith desperately wants to say but she bites down on her lip and swallows them.

She’s lost so much but she knows this:

Zelda Spellman tastes like adventure, but looks like the calm beautiful morning after a terrible storm. And Lilith…

Lilith will pay whatever is due to see her once more time.


End file.
